


just for now

by plumsocks



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of killugon, Oneshot, Soft Hisoka, Soft illumi, emotionally repressed illumi, hisoillu, idk how tags work, illumi really loves grape jam. it's a fact., murderers in love, waking up together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:40:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25895335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plumsocks/pseuds/plumsocks
Summary: Illumi never wanted to leave this moment. It was a completely different world to him, far from familial duties and the years of abuse he'd endured back home. For a second, a split second, he let himself dream. Thoughts of a life with Hisoka flooded his mind. Soft touches, taking care of each other, and of course, taking turns destroying each other in the best way possible. Killua had run off with the boy he loved, what's to stop Illumi from doing the same? The thought came and went quickly. He was never going to see it through, but it was a nice dream, one that made him feel content and safe, so he'd entertain it for a bit longer.hisoillu domestic drabble <3
Relationships: Hisoka/Illumi Zoldyck
Comments: 18
Kudos: 281





	just for now

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first work, so please go easy on me lol. i hope u enjoy! kudos appreciated <3

Hisoka's Yorknew apartment faced east. It meant he missed the sunset but got an unparalleled view of the sunrise. The morning light slowly began to creep through the curtains, growing brighter and brighter. Illumi kept his eyes closed until he could no longer ignore it.

His face was pressed against Hisoka’s back, one arm strewn over his shoulders The night before, he had waited until he heard Hisoka’s soft snores before scooting closer, too prideful to let Hisoka see him in such a vulnerable position. Illumi, careful not to wake him, slid out from underneath the sheets and sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and stretching. 

For the first time in a while, Illumi hadn’t had a nightmare. 

Illumi’s bed back home was a feather mattress imported from some faraway country. It was the best money could buy, so why did he sleep so soundly in Hisoka’s bed while he writhed and screamed in his own? Illumi decided it wasn’t due to the man beside him, but because he was far from the Zoldyck estate, where all his worst memories were. Yes, that must be it.

Illumi glanced at the man sleeping a few feet away. Hisoka was... well, what had Silva called him that one time? Ah. A lawless, heartless sex demon. Illumi would have to disagree with that analysis, Hisoka had plenty of heart, and right now, laying fully naked, tangled in the pristine white sheets, hair down, features soft and relaxed under the warm morning light, he looked more like an angel than a demon. 

That would change once he woke up and went back to his scheming, lust-driven self, so Illumi chose to savor the moment. Reluctantly, he walked to the kitchen, feet heavy against the ground, body still full of sleep. While his coffee brewed he let his hair out of the messy braid he slept in.

Hisoka had braided it last night after it kept getting in his face. They fumbled around in the dark until Hisoka was able to sit behind him, smoothing Illumi's hair down and expertly braiding the silky black strands. After he was done, he had wrapped his arms around Illumi's ever-so-tiny waist and pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder blade. For a violence-craving killer, he sure had a gentle touch.

The coffeemaker sputtered a little, and Illumi moved to grab his mug. He added milk and walked back to the bedroom holding the warm, steaming cup with both hands. 

Hisoka was exactly as he'd left him. Laying on his stomach, providing Illumi with a perfect view of his freckled back and messy crimson hair. His features were a lot softer without all that clown makeup. The serene look on his face made it difficult to believe this was the same man who stuck cards in unfortunate people’s skulls for fun. Pink lips gently parted, breathing slowly and softly, long black eyelashes resting on his cheeks.

Illumi never wanted to leave this moment. It was a completely different world to him, far from familial duties and the years of abuse he'd endured back home. For a second, a split second, he let himself dream. Thoughts of a life with Hisoka flooded his mind. Soft touches, taking care of each other, and of course, taking turns destroying each other in the best way possible. Killua had run off with the boy he loved, what's to stop Illumi from doing the same? The thought came and went quickly. He was never going to see it through, but it was a nice dream, one that made him feel content and safe, so he'd entertain it for a bit longer. 

Hisoka moved, nearly making Illumi spill his coffee. He nuzzled his face into the pillow and went limp again. The action messed up his hair, obscuring Illumi’s view of Hisoka’s eyes. Illumi found himself reaching out without thinking, gently brushing the fiery red locks to the side. He let his hand rest there for a moment longer than necessary, savoring the feeling of Hisoka’s skin against his fingertips.

“Illumi dear, how long are you going to stay there?”

Hisoka’s voice was deep and clear, he spoke without opening his eyes, a small grin on his lips.

“Ah. So you were awake,” Illumi said coolly, pulling his hand away. It took a lot to make him jump.

Hisoka sniffed the air.

“Did you make coffee?” He asked, eyes still closed.

“Yeah, want a cup?” 

Hisoka sat up, stretched, and yawned. Golden eyes looked up at Illumi from underneath thick lashes. They looked out of place, like they belonged on a hawk instead of a human. A stark contrast to Illumi’s infamously devoid eyes. 

Hisoka reached out, putting his hand over Illumi’s. He leaned in, never once breaking eye contact, and took a long sip of Illumi’s coffee. It was a lazy action, but so casually intimate, it felt like a kiss to Illumi. Once more, Illumi found himself drowning in those honey eyes. 

“How long are you going to be in town?” Hisoka asked.

“I’m leaving today,” Illumi said.

Hisoka sighed. “You’re always crashing with me and running off the next day.”

“Why waste money on a hotel?” Illumi said, cocking his head.

Besides, no hotel would have let him in last night. He had shown up at Hisoka’s doorstep covered in blood after a particularly messy assassination. Hisoka lead him to the bath, where he stripped to his underwear and cleaned up, Hisoka had seen him in various states of undress over the years, so this was nothing new. Hisoka washed the blood from his hair with his fancy shampoo that Illumi thought was unnecessary, but it smelt good so Illumi kept his complaints to a minimum.

After his bath, he had changed into the pajamas Hisoka provided him. Black sweatpants and a faded T-shirt displaying a vintage ‘Bungee Gum’ advertisement. They smelled like Hisoka’s cologne. 

Not that Illumi had memorized the smell of Hisoka's cologne.

Hisoka was a great cook. He was confident in everything he did, and cooking was no exception. He used Illumi’s visit as an opportunity to show off, so he made some complex dish that Illumi didn’t even bother trying to understand. It tasted good though, and Illumi ate every bite- much to Hisoka’s satisfaction.

If you ignored Illumi’s bloody clothes in the washing machine, and the red-rimmed bathtub, it was a normal, relaxing night spent enjoying each other’s company.

“So my house is just a hotel to you?” Hisoka asked in mock offense. Illumi didn’t answer.

Hisoka slid out from under the sheets and walked over to his closet, rifling through his expansive collection of clothes. Illumi didn’t understand Hisoka’s fashion fixation, he had clothes in every style, fabric, and color, most of them designer pieces. It was absurd. 

Hisoka ended up picking sweatpants just like Illumi’s, but red, and a bright pink muscle tank. It would have been hideous on anyone but him, Illumi thought.

“You’re not wearing clown clothes today?” Illumi questioned.

“They’re not clown clothes,” Hisoka said, mildly offended. “They’re magician clothes, and it’s a stylistic choice.”

Illumi knew he was never going to understand Hisoka’s fashion, so he just dropped it.

“French toast or pancakes?” Hisoka asked.

Illumi cocked his head.

“Do you have grape jam?”

Hisoka shrugged. “I think.”

Illumi started towards the door, looking behind him to make sure Hisoka was following. He got to the kitchen and sat cross-legged in front of Hisoka’s fridge, pulling out all kinds of foods and setting them on the surrounding floor. He finally found the desired grape jam way at the back, buried behind leftover cake, lunchmeat, and other assorted foods.

“French toast,” he said, nudging eggs, milk, and bread towards Hisoka. It sounded like a command instead of a question.

Illumi stood close to Hisoka’s side, watching the magician work over the stove. Illumi had never learned to cook. There was simply no need for it, his parents employed chefs, and their fortune ensured he’d always be able to buy from restaurants. 

Hisoka put his arm over Illumi’s shoulders. He was warm, so Illumi didn’t mind. He slid a little closer, hoping Hisoka wouldn’t notice.

He never got bored of looking at Hisoka. Illumi always noticed new things, mannerisms, scars, freckles. Hisoka had a birthmark on his inner thigh, Illumi was pretty sure he could draw it perfectly from memory at this point.

Hisoka ran a hand through Illumi’s hair. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

Illumi didn’t respond, but his eyes got a little brighter, and a small smile brushed his lips. He fumbled with the jam in his hands.

Hisoka was everything Illumi wasn’t, perhaps that was why he was so drawn to him. Free with his emotions, a risk-taker, independent. Illumi wanted to understand him, to strip him down to the very fiber of his being, find out what makes him tick. 

Illumi was a curious person, but this was beyond curiosity, bordering on obsession, the kind of illogical obsession that made him take jobs in the cities where he knew Hisoka was staying, made him crave attention from Hisoka, made him press his lips against his freckled skin in the middle of the night, made him take note of Hisoka’s favorite tea (apricot crème) so Illumi could buy a box for him as a thank you gift for letting him stay the night. 

It was a difficult situation.

Therefore, Illumi made a coward’s choice. He stayed right on the line between lovers or friends or allies or whatever the fuck they were. Let Hisoka make the move, let him break the glass wall. When that inevitably happened, what would Illumi do? He thought about it often, but never came to any real conclusion. He’d just have to wait until the moment to decide.

Hisoka plated the French toast, two pieces each. He handed Illumi one of the plates. Illumi sat at the table and started eating. He wasn’t good about saying thank you, he liked to repay favors instead of appreciating them.

Illumi slathered the toast in jam, using nearly half the jar. Hisoka looked disgusted, but it was strangely endearing. 

They sat, making small talk and enjoying their breakfast. Illumi was going to leave after he finished eating, so he ate very slowly. Tomorrow he would be back at the Zoldyck estate, enduring hellish training, but right now he was spending time with one of his favorite people, so he pushed thoughts of the future aside. 

He would savor this, he decided, just for now.


End file.
